Middle aged, Uncool and Not Bringing Sexy Back

Category: Christmas Traditions

Fake snow, meeting cute, and the classic two second end of movie smooch means Christmas is here and warning I’ll throw down with anyone who doesn’t agree with me.

Being an influencer is a huge deal right now. You’ve got your YouTube influencers that include people with make-up tutorials that teach you how to do the “perfect face” which really bothers me because who wants to use 23 different cosmetic products and take two hours before you can leave the house? Never mind all that blending of seven different foundations. I want to live my life, not spend it seamlessly merging liquid and powder concealers and inner eye shimmer. And then there’s the fashion and foodie influencers and on and on. All of this kind of makes me mad, because I was an influencer before it was a thing.

Case in point, I feel like I’m single handedly responsible for the current Hallmark holiday movie craze because I was a fanatical Hallmark holiday movie watcher before those movies were cool. 18 long years ago I was watching Hallmark holiday movies and enthusiastically proclaiming their greatness in the face of friends and family giving me the side eye.

But did I care? No, because “Special Delivery” staring Andy Dick (yes, comedian Andy Dick, in a sweet movie full of hope and redemption – go figure?) or “The Flight of the Reindeer” featuring the cinematic talents of Beau Bridges and Richard Thompson proving that reindeer really can fly should be celebrated by all of humanity with a box of Kleenex and a side of gingerbread.

Yes, I know for all you new converts that it’s hard to fathom that there was ever a Hallmark holiday movie made without the acting talents of Lacey Chabert or Candace Cameron Bure. But I can assure you, back in the day the movies were made without the allure of 80s and 90s TV stars. Totally mind-blowing, right? But for true hardcore Hallmark holiday aficionados this is our truth.

The whole Hallmark bandwagon started to blossom in 2011 when the networked launched their “Countdown to Christmas.” Before you could say, “Jingle Bells,” people were hooked and acting like they had discovered holiday paradise when, in fact, it had been around for a solid decade.

I can remember the moment like it was yesterday. I was at a party when two women dressed in “This is my Hallmark Christmas movie watching shirt” dared to attempt to one up me about Hallmark movies. I wasn’t having it, not one bit. One of the women, who I’m sure was a little tipsy on spiked eggnog, spouted off about how the first Hallmark holiday movie was “Matchmaker Santa.” Are. You. Kidding. Me.? Just because it starred Lacey Chabert before her, some would say, overzealous Botox injections doesn’t mean it was the first Hallmark holiday movie. I know for a fact that movie is from 2012.

I got in both of those women’s faces and let them know that they were frauds in their Hallmark shirts, nothing more than wannabes. I told them that I have been “Hallmarking” for almost two decades.

I was there when the sets were tacky, and it looked like they were filming all their interiors in an abandon Sears. I was there when the Christmas décor looked like Hobby Lobby rejects purloined from the 75 percent off bin and all the fake snow had a hint of beige like it was a cast-off from a Christmas carnival. I was a loyal fan when all the actors looked like they did their own hair and makeup. How can anyone forget the 2004 “Single Santa Seeks Mrs. Claus” when poor Crystal Bernard’s hair looked like she was wearing a wig made from the straw in Rudolph’s stall. If ever there was a cry for a deep conditioning treatment and a stylist who knew their way around a round brush this was it.

To say I unloaded my Christmas bucket would be an understatement. But it had to be done. Hallmark holiday movies, most shot in the summer and made in about a month, starring a 42-year-old Candance Cameron Bure (aka Her Royal Highness of Hallmark) as a twentysomething spunky up and coming executive should be respected. They’re all future classics. 50 years from now, forget about “A Wonderful Life” because weary mothers will be watching “Snowmance” from 2017 pondering the fashion choices (Why all the flannel?)but never questioning the plot where a snowman comes to life and turns out to be, of course, the most perfect man ever.

I’m an unabashed holiday freak. (Although I draw the line at putting up Christmas decorations before Halloween. That’s just showing a deep disrespect and disregard for the seasons.) I love the month of December like Santa loves the heated seat in his sled. I’m all about the ho, ho, ho and holly jolly. That said, there are some traditions and trends that I’d like to see get permanently put in cold storage at the North Pole, even, gasp, a few of the classics. So, hold on tight to your peppermint mocha because it’s about to get frosty.

Present Parity

I doubt every family does this and I accept 100 percent responsibility for the gift counting issues I’ve created within my family. For you see, I have raised children who still insist that each of them has an equal number of presents.

It started when my oldest was still in Thomas the Tank Engine pull-ups. To help him learn to count, I would stack all his presents and together we would go through them. Then, when his sister came along I did the same thing. The result is now two kids who display an obsessive-compulsive disorder in regards to gift equity. I know most of the reason they still do this is because one of their main hobbies is to annoy me. So, last year, I took to wrapping empty boxes to create an equal tableau. Alas, I was thwarted by a sarcastic child who remarked that her brother’s presents seemed to display a “higher quality gift wrap experience.”

Opening a Present on Christmas Eve

As a kid, I lived for Christmas morning. To take the edge off, my mother would let us open one present on Christmas Eve. I would get all excited, clawing through the gift wrap and ripping open the box like a rabid bear. That exuberance ended upon discovering – Ta-Da – pajamas. Freaking flannel pajamas. Talk about an epic letdown that not even a fistful of candy canes could cure.

Finally, after a couple of Christmases I wised up and told my mother I wanted to open a present that wasn’t going to be PJ’s. Surprisingly she acquiesced. I was thrilled until the gift was worse, much worse than pajamas. It was house slippers from Sears. Ugh.

This is why, as an adult, I have instilled a no-present-opening policy till Christmas morning. No one needs their holiday mojo messed with by starting out the best day of the year with the lamest gift in the pile. Also, I’m very thrifty and I’m on team holiday pajamas that make their debut November 1. That way you can ensure that you’re getting the most wear time out of your family’s elf-themed fleece.

Themed Holiday Dinner

I’m still angry, years later, over how the traditional Christmas dinner I lust after 364 days a year was ruined by a relative trying to be a mini “International Martha Stewart.” This relative, who shall remain nameless, instead of doing the whole sweet potato casserole with gingersnaps and the turkey and dressing yum of it all, decided to create an authentic Nordic menu for dinner.

Answer me this, who wants to dine on Rudolph on December 25? Yep, you guessed it. Reindeer was what’s for dinner and it was being served with a side of oat-rye-spelt clusters and dill-cured arctic char. Blech! There’s not enough hot glögg in Norway to make that palatable.

Here’s my tried and true advice for the holidays – stick with what you know. For example, a couple of days ago I saw a recipe for an updated green bean casserole. It looked very green and lush and I was seriously tempted to upgrade Christmas dinner with this more gourmet version. But then I read the recipe. It was devoid of cream of mushroom soup and those French’s curly onion thingamabobs.

Say what? How do you make a green bean casserole without the cream of mushroom soup? It’s like saying you’re going to make a chocolate cake and then not adding chocolate. That’s crazy talk. As for not having salty, greasy, crispy, onions on top, well, I just literally have no words except – sad – because that casserole would have made me sad and no one needs to feel that on Christmas.

Cheating on Your Christmas Tree

Remember the good old days when folks stayed in a monogamous relationship with their Christmas tree? You had one tree and it got all the love, attention and holiday cheer. Now, a lot of us have become polyamorous with our trees. There’s a faux-flocked Frasier fir in the family room, a white spruce holding court in the living room, Noble firs in the kids’ bedrooms and even an artificial “slim” Montana pine in the kitchen. We’ve become a society where one tree is no longer enough to satisfy us. It’s a sickness that’s impacting the holidays.

What’s wrong with sharing your love with assorted evergreens? Many things, but if I had to pick just one it would be that an abundance of trees equals a lackluster decorating ambience. Think about it. When there was just one tree it got all the ornament ardor. When you add in another couple of trees to the mix it can look, oh no, there’s that word again – sad. Each successive tree looks a little less festooned. A little less TLC’d. It’s just not right I tell you. Let’s make holiday decorating great again and embrace the one tree way of life.

Healthy Holiday

This concept just needs to raise the refined white sugar flag and surrender. A healthy holiday, of course can be a reality. And if you’re all about doing a 30-day fermented juice cleanse and training for a mud run triathlon in December, then you have my condolences. Seriously, my thoughts are with you during this difficult time. I get it. I really do. You’re a health beast, but what I don’t get is when the health beast becomes the holiday buzz kill.

Hey, just because you’re suffering from cookie dough deprivation don’t try to smother my gingerbread joy by doing an oral calorie count of what I’m consuming. Or worse, plug my food intake into the death clock app on your phone and share that my current rate of shoving spoonfuls of shortbread batter, containing loads of sugar, bleached flour, and raw eggs into my mouth is taking 3.5 years off my life.

This is not news I want to hear, pretty much ever, and much less during the holidays. It’s a total Scrooge move and it’s bad karma to harsh someone’s holiday vibe. The holidays should be a delicious, no-judgement zone. You can get all superior about your workout and kale and cauliflower smoothies on January 1.

Let’s all now grab a cookie smothered in buttercream frosting, or double fist a cookie and a hot cocoa with whipped cream, doused with red and green sprinkles and a candy cane garnish (I’m looking at you healthy holiday) and toast to the glad tidings the season brings, that far outweigh all the annoyances I just featured on this list.

Vintage Snarky

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